


The End Comes Not With a Bang, but a Sigh of Relief

by Draikinator



Category: The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms, The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild
Genre: ASL, Angst, Depersonalization, Disassociation, Established Relationship, Happy ending though!, M/M, Mute Link, PTSD Link, Post-Game, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Second Person, Sort Of, its rated m for some sex talk but i dont go too much into it, lots of cooking, perspective link
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-13
Updated: 2018-05-13
Packaged: 2019-05-06 06:37:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,782
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14636124
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Draikinator/pseuds/Draikinator
Summary: You are empty, empty, empty.The world spins like a top around you but you are still, frozen, always, a thing made for a singular purpose that you have already served and still continuing on, in clear defiance of the world order. You have no place in any world and yet you're here, a warrior in a peaceful place, a knife in a nursery, a blade in a bed. You are nothing, nothing, nothing, empty, empty, empty, and there's nowhere else for you to go where your life makes sense.“Link, have you not slept at all?”





	The End Comes Not With a Bang, but a Sigh of Relief

You dig your heels into Horse’s flank and tighten your grip with your knees, already rubbed raw from hard riding, and let go of the reigns to raise your bow and fire a shot into the hulking behemoth’s shoulder, glowing with Zelda’s golden magic. Horse whinnies, a screech of a noise you can barely hear over the wind and fire as she tears the churned earth to shreds beneath her frantic hooves and dives out of the way of a frenzied strike, one giant cloven hoof smashing down where the two of you had been only moment before, sending waves of flame and death out from where it landed.

Your hair whips around your face, skin chapped from the violent heat, eyes watering from the wind, face smeared with blood from… an injury, somewhere, you aren't even sure where, you've taken so many- this is it, the thirteenth hour. It doesn't matter what happens to you. It doesn't matter if you live another minute, if inside of that minute you take Ganon down with you. This is the moment you were born for. This is the moment you died for. This is the moment everyone brought you, and you alone, back for.

This is what you were made for, a living weapon formed in time and amnesia and violence and death and grief, and you will not fail, because the you that failed before is dead, and you are not him.

You open your paraglider and catch the wind, Horse crying out in surprise and panic as she loses her rider, and you draw your bow, unable even to breathe as you line up the shot with the glowing point on Ganon’s heaving back.

* * *

 

You tug at the itchy cuffs of your dress shirt for what must be the thousandth time, trying to keep the anger off your dispassionate face as the Rito elder prattles on about… something, not that you care. Zelda does, though, clearly, as she cards her fingers together on the table, nodding in intrigue and commenting intermittently. You want to crawl out of these awful stuffy formal clothes and into some armour and take a nap. You should be keeping guard, or not here at all. This isn't what you were built for and you don't really want to learn how to do it now.

Really, the only consolation you have for having to attend this miserable political meeting without food other than paltry cheese and wines (Goddess, what you wouldn't give for roast goat flank with some butter and sunshroom) is that Zora’s Domain sent Prince Sidon as a diplomat, and while he looks as manicured in his attentions and mannerisms as Zelda, you know him, and you can tell he’s just as bored as you are. He’s casting you knowing looks across the table every time you adjust your collar against your neck, lips twitching with only the tiniest amount of sympathy.

You’ll need to make his lips do a lot more than twitch later, before he leaves the castle. You chew your own thoughtlessly, dwelling on it for a moment, and you wonder if you should sneak into his room, or try to sneak him into yours, or say fuck it all and just go knock on his door, all consequences be damned.

You’ll probably sneak through the window.

You skewer a piece of cheese with your decorative toothpick, a gaudy thing made of metal that seems like such a waste, and chew on it, resisting the urge to put your head in his arms and sleep on the table. Zelda would probably kill you, though. She’s already giving you warning eyes.

You drink more wine than you can excuse but you don't embarrass yourself. You wish your clearly honed alcohol tolerance embarrassed you like Zelda seems to think it should, from the way she glares at you, but it doesn't.

Embarrassed is a big feeling, and you probably can't feel anything like that anymore.

* * *

 

Sidon seems genuinely surprised when you pop the window open just before midnight. He looks up and smiles at you, like he always does, leaving his writing on the desk, ornate with all sorts of intricate little Hylian wood carving details, and stands to offer you a hand. You don't need it, but it's a nice gesture.

It's almost funny, the way he sighs when you kiss him, still squatting in the windowsill, a sound like he's finally put down a heavy backpack. You try not to read into that and you strip because you know you shouldn't stay long or someone will probably notice he's not alone or you aren't in your room, no matter how late it is. You make it fast. Still good. He says he loves you when you go to slip back out the window and you don't know what to do with that, so you just pretend your hands are busy holding yourself up and give him a wink. It seems like he likes it.

You scale the wall and slip back into your own room. You lock the window and double check the lock on the door.

You hate the bed in here. It’s too soft. You know that's supposed to be a good thing, but you can't relax in it. A soft bed always feels foreboding, like you’re preparing for a nasty fight. You’re anxious the whole next day, teetering on edge. You tear the blanket, neatly made and tucked into the mattress, off and roll into it on the floor, back to the wall, like a burrito. The moon casts safe white light on the floor in the darkness and you still kind of hate it here, but at least it could be worse.

* * *

 

“...and if we wait until evening, it’ll be easier to find the shrine by it's glow,” Zelda continues. You haven't really been listening. You already know that. It's a shrine. It glows. There's not many you haven't already found, not that you understand why she wants to find them all, anyway. They still glow, but they don't open anymore.

She leans forward and rubs her horse’s neck- you’re not sure how that ended up being hers either, because it was your horse that you caught, but she didn't need to ride behind you on your saddle, she's a perfectly good rider herself, so you took out the white horse you caught because you figured it would make her more comfortable in an alien world… not that she seems like an alien in it. It boggles your mind how she can fit into this place like a puzzle piece into its proper place, like it was always meant to be there, while you struggle to squeeze into any hole you can find whenever you can find it.

She’s still talking when your ears swivel toward the telltale sound of a crane's feathers opening behind you and you whip around, squeezing your legs against the horse as you release your hands from the reigns and yank your bow off of your hip. You’ve put an arrow through its heart before it's ten inches off the ground.

“-at which point we can- ah! Link, what did you-?” Zelda’s clearly startled by the noise and she turns her horse a bit to stare at you, incredulous. “Was that a crane? Why did you do that?”

You don't even understand why she would ask. She just suggested staying until after dark, you’ll need to eat something. You hop off of Horse’s back and grab the crane by the neck to pick it up and show it to her. She makes a face that tells you she finds the dead animal unpleasant.

“Link, I brought food with me. You didn't need to kill that animal.”

You look at the crane, and then look back at her, with a face you want to say 'then save the food for later,’ but that might be a thought too complex for an expression.

She looks a bit dejected, ears drooping downward, “I have been practicing, you know, if you speak slowly I… I’ll probably understand. If you want.”

Oh. Damn, you’ve offended her. She wants to talk to you so badly. Not many things tug at your heart, but you don't have it in you to hurt her feelings and tell her that it's not just that you don’t speak, which you don't, you just… don't like talking. With anyone. But she's been through enough. You don't want her to think you're mad at her. You tuck the neck of the crane under your arm and tuck your bow away to free your hands.

'We can eat your food later,’ you sign, trying to keep your vocab simple. She’s been studying hard, but she has a lot on her mind.

“We have plenty of food for later, too,” she says, “You didn't need to.”

You shrug and climb back into Horse’s saddle, shouldering the crane. You’ll eat it later yourself then, if she doesn't want any.

* * *

 

You hate Gerudo Desert. It's hot, and it's sandy,  and you have to wait outside the city because people recognize you now and apparently, it's unbecoming of a knight to change your clothes in the desert and then trick people into letting you into their city. Or something. Whatever Zelda said. You’re not supposed to do it. Also, there's virtually a zero percent chance of running into Prince Sidon out here because there's no rivers or lakes or water at all, really, so the odds of a quick one in a pretty underwater cave he knew about or against an off the path cliff face are abysmally low. Which sucks. That was basically the only reason you liked walking around in the woods following Zelda around and making sure nothing managed to kill her.

Not that you would rather she go by herself. If she was alone something would definitely try to kill her- and you do care about her, as much as you can care about anything or anyone. You don’t want her to get hurt and you do want her to have her own life and adventures and research or whatever.  You just aren't really invested in it. You've been all these places. You've done all these things. You've had your adventure, and it kind of sucked and you got the shit kicked out of you a bunch and you still don't really have your memories back, but you know everyone other than Zelda you ever might have cared about is dead, and you just kind of have to deal with that.

But seeing Sidon is nice. And when you’re wandering around most of Hyrule you can always hang on to the slim hope that maybe around the next bend you’ll see him spear fishing in the river or travelling to visit an Outpost or some political thing you also probably don't care about, but here? Here there's nothing. There's sand. And heat. And you aren't allowed inside. And Horse won't come near the sand, because she has more sense that anyone else who willingly walked into this hellscape, including you.

At least you already opened this shrine, so you can sit under the little hooded overhang that gives you a bit of shade. You mostly just chew on chillshrooms until you finally see a bunch of Gerudo warriors mobilizing around the corner, which means you finally get to leave.

Zelda waves at you from Riju’s caravan, which she is apparently sharing. You know from experience there's not room for three people in there. Great. Evidently, you’re walking until you get back to Horse, and even if you run into Sidon there's going to be too many watchful eyes on the untrustworthy voe to sneak off with him.

You can hear Zelda giggling with Riju in the caravan, and part of you is glad she's happy, because she isn't always, and she deserves to be, and another part of you is really pissed that she gets to hang out with her girlfriend and Goddess knows when the next time you get to see- well. Sidon, whatever he is to you, will be.

The sand gets in your boots and your socks and your underwear and it's miserable, and when you get back to Horse, she’s pissed higher than hell and won't even let you up until you bribe her with apples.

* * *

 

“Oh, Linny!” You’d know Kodah’s voice anywhere. The first time you heard it- the first time you definitely consciously remember hearing it- it felt familiar already. Even now it's almost uncomfortable in that way, that whenever she speaks it sounds like a song you’ve heard a thousand times. You don't really remember how you know her, but you think maybe you grew up in or near Zora’s Domain. You know Zelda once said your father was a knight, so you think you ought to have grown up near the castle, but… you won't ask. You don't want to know. None of it really matters now, anyway.

You turn and wave at her. Kodah is fluent in Hylian sign and she's got no intention of letting you drift quietly by. She's so overbearingly motherly sometimes it's weird to think you may have used to date, when she was younger, when you were alive.

“Are you busy today?” She asks, padding forward to give you an affectionate little hug. She's very touchy, “I got my first shipment of hearty bass in for the season this morning! I was hoping you might want to help me out in the kitchen with them tonight?”

'You want me to cook?’ You ask, tilting your head to the side. She nods and clasps her hands together.

“Oh, Linny! You’re the best chef I know, and you know how much I love your cooking! The first hearty bass of the season is always my busy night and I could really use a good cook in the kitchen to help.”

You consider it. It sounds like work, which you won't be paid for probably- not that you need money anymore anyway, you hardly ever even did, but you do like cooking and you don't want Kodah not to like you anymore for some reason, so maybe you should. You’re only here as a courier to pick up some documents and even then that's only because Zelda clearly knows you were hungry for an excuse to visit the Domain- though you kind of hope she doesn't suspect why. She's too young to be worrying about whos fooling around with who.

This could really cut into your fucking time. Her eyes are earnest though, and your eyes flicker up to the corner of the castle you know Sidon’s quarters are nestled in.

“You can invite the young prince, if you want!” She purrs, and you snap your eyes back to her with a grimace.

'Why would I care if he came?!’ you demand, still scowling. She titters laughter at your ferocity and taps her finger to her lips.

“Oh, I dunno. You are friends, after all. Perhaps a prince could draw in customers. I bet he's never had your cooking, Linny. And you do your best work when you're trying to show off.” Goddess, what does she think she knows? Ugh. It's not like you give a shit what people think, but Sidon’s the crown prince and the only one of King Dorephan’s children you haven't managed to get killed yet. He has a reputation and an obligation to produce an heir with someone his own species. He thinks he loves you, but he's a hopeless romantic, and it will pass. It always does. He thinks he knows you, but he doesn't. He knows a ghost. A character. Whatever it is he thinks you are, a hero or a knight or a Hylian, he’s wrong. You're a figment of your own imagination, vengeance and destiny given form, bereft of memory or emotion or attachment, you are a sword given flesh, given purpose. You aren't a real person. And sooner or later, he’ll figure that out and it will be better for everyone.

Today, maybe he can try your cooking, though.

'Fine,’ you sign with a sigh, and Kodah titters so happily she picks you up like a weightless scarecrow in a bear hug before she plops you back on the ground.

“Oh, Linny, you’re a lifesaver! But I knew you wouldn't let me down. I've always been able to rely on you. Come by the tavern as soon as you finish seeing the Prince!” She waves as she jogs back to the Inn, and you eye the tavern itself, a fairly new addition to the platform through the inn itself. It isn't very popular yet, but, things take time. Kodah let's you cook there when you want and sometimes you help her with customers, and you always like that. You only feel real when you're cooking. You might not be real, but your body is, and the peace that eating good food brings is real. You like cooking.

You look back up to the palace, before you climb the staircases and pass guards who know you by name and wave and smile to you until you get there.

He almost looks like he knew you were coming, the way he answered the door so quickly. Maybe he did- you don't ask though, you just get down to business. You can't ask him to come eat until you're done here, but you don't want to rush. You just need to be aware of time passing, which is kind of hard for you sometimes.

Sidon gasps and writhes beneath your earnest touches, desperate and wanting, the sheath to your sword and the whetstone too, something brilliant and beautiful and red and altogether real and a part of this world you clawed your way into, kicking and screaming, something that should surely recognize you for the matroshyka of smoke you are and somehow _doesn't._

He gasps your name over and over and you want to cover his mouth but you don't, because it's sharp.

You pat him on the thigh as he’s dozing in his afterglow, and he peeks his eyes open at you.

'I’m cooking at-’ you hesitate, because Sidon is slow at reading fingerspelling and his vocabulary isn't super robust- 'hotel tonight, you want to come?’

You can see the wheels turning in his head as he processes the words, before he lights up, tail wagging behind his head, lips stretched thin in a toothy smile.

“You’re going to cook? Here? Yes! I would love to, my dear, Kodah has told me your food is without compare, I’ve very much wanted to try your cooking for some time!” Sidon looks so happy. You wonder if you've ever felt that happy in your life, and you aren't sure. You should be glad you're responsible for creating that happiness, but it makes you feel hollow between your ribs and you don't know why.

You nod, 'I’m going to wash up and go downstairs. Come down soon.’

He scoots over and pulls you in for a hug, pressing his lips against your cheek. He's cool and pleasant against your skin and you like it when he does this. Sometimes you think you could probably curl up on Sidon’s scales and sleep peacefully for the rest of your life, but then you remember that when your life is over he’ll still have his youth and another couple hundred years in front of him to deal with, and if he's gotten used to that familiar weight on his chest, it would hurt to lose. You pull away and get dressed.

When you get back to the Seabed there's a line outside that makes you feel like you should frown, but you feel a bit giddy. Kodah waves you into the kitchen when you get there, and you lace up the apron she tosses you (only for Hylians, apparently, because she's still certainly the typical Zora levels of naked), and count up all the ingredients in your head.

You put your sword and shield in the corner on the floor and forget about them.

* * *

 

This is probably the best day of your life.

Sent out to personally guard Prince Sidon on his trip to the Hyrule capital… just the two of you traveling out on the open roads. You even pulled that giant horse you caught ages ago out of it's stable so you could teach Sidon to ride. You've had sex like four times already and it's only the first day. You don't even care that Zelda obviously knows what you've been up to if she's not going to butt into your business about it while simultaneously giving you jobs like this on purpose.

He chatters on constantly and his voice is warm and excited and you probably only catch a third of what he's saying even though you're genuinely trying to pay attention, because sometimes you just lose focus when people talk to you for a long time, but he doesn't seem to mind, and the sound of him is reassuringly and friendly. You wish this would work out. He's nice to have around, between the company and the ceaseless optimism and the fucking, but you wouldn't do that to him. There's not a lot of people you really feel much of anything for, good or bad, but you like him and you want him to be happy. He’s a real person, and you aren't, and you can't do that to him.

“Ah, but truly, my dearest, you must try sea Zora cuisine sometime. I find it terribly salty and it's hardly to my own tastes, but with your passion for diverse and exotic cuisine, I think you would very much enjoy the experience. You simply must accompany me to the Outpost next season, should you find the time- I would certainly enjoy your company as well.” He’s clinging to the heel of the saddle for dear life, reins balled up in his fist and it's kind of hilarious the way his back is arched. It's obvious he's never sat on a horse before, but kind of cute in a way, that at his age he's still riding a horse like a total greenback.

It takes you a moment to process he’s waiting for a response and you have to rewind the conversation in your mind to remember what he was saying. Right, fish, outpost, company.

You shrug noncommittally and smile and he lights up.

“Excellent! I will put the time request in with Princess Zelda the next time I see her,” he says with a little hum of satisfaction. Of course he will- he knows you won't. You never do anything. You don't know why he spends any time with you at all. Well, probably all the sex. He seems to like that. Unless he really genuinely likes you, which seems like such a wild idea that-

You hear a noise and your ears swivel to locate it- to your left, the side Sidon is on. Not feathers, not hooves. Leaves crumple- _bowstring._ It's a bowstring.

You shove yourself up on Horse’s back and kick the big horse Sidon is riding in the flank, hard, with your boot, and it shrieks in surprise before it takes off. You jump over the side of Horse and give her a hard slap too and she follows- she knows the sound of a bowstring as well as you do, and she's no warrior.

You rip your blade from your scabbard just as an arrow flies and slams into your chest just below the belt that holds your sheath against your back and you hiss in pain as it cuts through your chest like butter and tears all the air from your lungs. You don't have time to hesitate, though, and you slam your sword into the brush with a cry- but a familiar orange glow and a sound like a temple makes clue you into your adversary: Yiga Clan.

Not a bokoblin who you can dispatch with ease. Not a highway bandit who will run when you put up a fight. Yiga Clan, who fight until you die or they do, who know how to fight, with Sidon here.

You shriek as you whip around with a swing of your silent sword toward the sound of the clansmen reappearing. You cut through just the front of their gut, only barely, as they leap back and fire another set of arrows at you from their dual bow with a laugh. You just manage to throw yourself into a roll that dodges them and continue on to your feet and smash the butt of your blade into their mask. They stumble back with a muffled cry, gripping at their face.

“Link! Link, I’m coming!” That’s Sidon’s voice, the idiot. He shouldn't come back. The Yiga Clan is your enemy, your baffling enemy that still exists after you've destroyed Ganon, these baffling, stupid, stupid fucking idiots out for your blood and you hate them you hate them you hate them and you have to kill this fucking bastard before that idiot Sidon gives them the opportunity to hurt him-

There is no place in the world more dangerous for a sword to exist than in your hands. You tighten your grip and ignore the wet feeling of blood on your chest and scream bloody murder, which is what you're about to do and rush the clansman with your sword held high and your waist twisted to pull it back, just as they start to glow orange to vanish- but before they can you slam the blade their skull. Their cry is brief, aborted, stopped short by you, and you have to put your boot on their chest and shove to yank your sword out.

You slam it into their chest, once, twice, three times, and you don't stop shrieking rage at them until Sidon grabs your shoulders and yanks you back and away, kicking and screaming and clawing at the air, covered in blood.

“Link! Link, you’re done, it's dead, you can stop!”

You’re panting, muscles tense, sword still gripped white knuckled in one hand. Sidon has his arms under your shoulders and he’s dragged you back away from the- the… you blink, eyes bleary, and let the sword slip from your hands into the earth so you can rub blood from your eyes, and look up at Sidon. He looks panicked, concerned, unhappy. You look back at the bloody pulp he dragged you away from.

A bokoblin. Just a bokoblin.

You look back up to Sidon, confused. Where did the Yiga clansmen go?

“Oh, Link…” he mutters, crushing you against his chest. You don't know why he seems so upset. You won. You killed it. You only got a little hurt. He shouldn't be scared. You took care of it. You won.

* * *

 

You lean against the wall and tap an old song you half remember against your arm with two fingers, idly. Riju and Zelda are seated in front of the fire on the floor like children (they are children) with notes and papers and books and giggling and pens and whatever it is they're talking about. It could be anything. You haven't been listening. Maybe it's trade treaties, maybe it's a book series they like, maybe it's lunch plans.

“Link, you know you can be excused for the evening, if you’d like. I hardly need a body guard in my own sitting room,” Zelda laughs from across the room. You still your drumming and look up at her blankly. She doesn't know that. Anything could happen. Yiga and wizzrobes can teleport, and bokoblins are small enough they could probably climb down the chimney if they wanted. A guardian could tear through a wall if it wanted, though those were apparently on your side again. Maybe. Supposedly. You don't have anything better to do.

You shake your head and she sighs. She seems kind of annoyed.

“Hero,” Riju chuckles, sitting on her knees, “She wants you to go so we can have some privacy.”

That does make more sense. You look between them for a moment. Riju looks kind of amused and Zelda looks kind of embarrassed. You shrug and lean off the wall.

“It’s not that I don't want your company, Link,” she says hastily as you stride past her towards the door, “I’m sure you understand! You and Sidon-”

You wave at her and she closes her mouth, hand wavering in the air in front of her.

'We aren’t dating,’ you say to her sharply. Her ears pin back in alarm.

“Oh, my goodness, Link, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to imply anything, I just assumed because you spent so much time with him and you, um-”

You scowl, then shake your head. You don't want her to be upset and you've already upset her. You don't want her telling Riju that Sidon is taken, though, because she’s Chief of the Gerudo and a major world leader and if she starts talking it will be a problem for the Zora royalty. Sidon needs to get a queen of his own species so he can make a proper heir or a political marriage with another kingdom maybe, something productive. His hand in marriage is worth more than your entire existence and you won't let your cesspool of a life drag him down even an inch from the potential he deserves. Not for a second. Not for anything. Not even for Zelda.

'Only friends,’ you sign, slowly, enunciating. She looks so cowed. 'I’ll see you tomorrow,’ you add, consolingly. She doesn't look particularly any happier. You hover for a moment, wondering if you should say something else, but you can't think of anything, so you turn and leave.

* * *

 

You are empty, empty, empty.

The world spins like a top around you but you are still, frozen, always, a thing made for a singular purpose that you have already served and still continuing on, in clear defiance of the world order. You have no place in any world and yet you're here, a warrior in a peaceful place, a knife in a nursery, a blade in a bed. You are nothing, nothing, nothing, empty, empty, empty, and there's nowhere else for you to go where your life makes sense.

“Link, have you not slept at all?”

Of course you haven't. It's a full moon tonight and since Ganon was destroyed there have been no Bloodmoons, but there is no guarantee there won't be. There's no guarantee that the world is better. You can't sleep tonight, not until midnight passes. You can't see the moon from Sidon’s window in the palace until just before midnight and you can't stop watching the sky until then, until you _know_. You aren't sleeping. Not yet.

You look back at Sidon, briefly. He's sleeping in the bed, because he wants you to join him, and he thinks you'd rather sleep in the bed than you would in the water. He's wrong, honestly, you might drown sleeping in the water, but that's not awful. You've been a breath from death so many times, and it isn't quiet. It isn't peaceful. It's violent and angry and you've tasted your own blood more than you have the fine wine of the kingdom you saved and drowning sounds quiet. A nice death in your sleep. You don't think Hylia would let you have that, though. You were made to die in bloody battle.

But you were born in water, only four years ago, in the shrine of resurrection, and to die in water, just as quietly, sounds perfectly parallel.

You go back to pacing in front of the window. You’re tired but you can't sleep, you have to keep moving. You can't stop right now. You'll sleep of you stop.

“Link,” Sidon says, softly, hand on your shoulder. When did he get out of bed? You weren't paying attention again… “Are you waiting for the Bloodmoon again?”

You nod earnestly. It could come. What if it came? When no one expected it? All those monsters, with everyone off guard- you have to be ready. You have to be ready in case no one else is, you have to make sure Sidon is safe, and Zelda is safe, and Riju, and Teba, and Bazz and Kodah and Pura and Impa and Paya and Hyrule-

“I’ll wait with you, then,” Sidon murmurs, and leans down to kiss your forehead. His lips are cool. This is probably for the best, if the Bloodmoon comes, he’ll already be awake, and you won't have to explain.

'Thank you,’ you sign. He smiles at you, softly, and you wonder again if he knows you're not real.

* * *

 

You pull the goatsteaks out of their marinade move them to the skillet, already hot and buttered. A full day of soaking has let the meat really soak up the wet ingredients and the spices, and now it just need a hot skillet to turn it in. While the meat cooks, though, you’re already simmering some mushrooms and potatoes in another pan. Hearty truffles and Hylian shrooms, rock salt, cubed potatoes and just a bit of hearty radishes. Some cumin and paprika and maybe even a squeeze of lemon, actually. Yeah, lemon.

You turn behind you while you stir the vegetables and wave at Sidon, watching from the table. His fins perk up at that, and you sign 'Lemon,’ at him. He doesn't seem to understand the sign, so you make a face like you tasted something really sour.

“Ah! A lemon?” He asks. You nod and he seems delighted, standing and crossing to where the fruit is stored in the icebox. When you see him again he's handing you a lemon. You beckon him downward with a nod and give him a chaste kiss on the cheek. He seems delighted and returns to where he was sitting.

The meat won't take long to cook, so it's time to finish up the risotto with some more butter and some parsley and cheese. You hope Sidon likes the risotto- you know he's usually pretty happy just eating raw fish, but he seems to enjoy Hylian cuisine well enough, and you've seen him eat noodles before. Not rice, but, well, you're about to find out.

You cook the steaks on the other side while you blow out the fire under the risotto and move them from the pot to the wooden Hylian plates you brought with you- important to eat goatsteak on wood plates, not the stone ones Zora favour. The vegetables have simmered a lovely liquid fusion you pour lovingly over the meat and the risotto, and you present your dish to Sidon with the closest thing to love you're capable of.

His big yellow eyes light up like sunshine, his pupils blown wide they way they are when he’s looking at you naked, which, maybe should worry you? Since apparently that's how he looks at food, but, hey, whatever, right? There's probably worse ways to die than being kinky and you've probably been an inch from all of them.

You watch expectantly while he takes a bite from his fork, tiny in his hand, and he shuts his eyes softly as he tastes it, checks pulling inward.

“Link,” he says after he swallows, reverently, “this is by far… the most delicious thing I have ever eaten.”

You smile and puff your chest out proudly, then retrieve your own plate from where you left it on the counter to join him at the little table.

'I’m glad you like it,’ you tell him. His eyes soften, and he's halfway through his risotto before he speaks again.

“I know you help Kodah and Kayden at the Seabed Inn sometimes,” he muses, “Would you ever consider making that arrangement somewhat more… permanent?”

You pause, fork in your mouth and stare at him. You have a job. You're the princess’s bodyguard. That's a “for the rest of your life” kind of job. You cock your head at him. ‘Z-e-l-d-a,’ you fingerspell.

“I…” Sidon pauses, like he wants to say something and isn't sure he should, “Well, I’ve been writing Princess Zelda, and I believe she may be amenable to your retirement- you have, technically, been in her employment for over a century, and you've successfully saved the world! Perhaps it's time to consider that there may be… more, in life, for you, than fighting.”

You can't help but laugh. That doesn't even make sense. You don't have a life to do more than fight with. You're a ghost. The only thing you're good for is killing- it's what you were made for. That's just your life. That's all.

He's giving you this weird concerned look, but he's not eating his food. You worked hard on that, so you point to it to remind him. He looks down at his plate, confused, then back at you.

“Are you alright?” He asks, and the answer should be obvious, “I don't see what's so funny.”

'I’m a good cook,’ you sign, still chuckling, 'but I’m a better murderer.’

Sidon frowns. “What sign is that?” He asks, badly mimicking the sign for murderer. You sigh.

'I’m a better knight,’ you say, instead.

He frowns.

* * *

 

You hate Gerudo Desert.

But at least you're outside the city this time, so you aren't totally bored. Zelda adjusts her stance on the Knight’s Shield you've lent her, adjusting her grip on the reigns.

“Now, if you feel like you’re going to fall, you need to tuck and roll. Put your arms up like this in front of your face, and throw yourself into it so your momentum keeps you from becoming injured.”

“Okay,” Zelda says, mimicking Riju’s arms with her own. She’ll be fine, she knows how to fall off a horse, she can fall off a sand seal. You aren't worried.

“Okay then, are you ready?” Riju asks, adjusting her own feet on her shield.

“I’m ready!” Zelda says, confidently.

“Are you ready, Link?”

You grunt and nod and she smiles.

“Alright, then. Go!” She snaps the reigns against Patricia’s back and her seal takes off, followed quickly by Zelda’s as she follows suit. You angle your seal to follow just behind her, in case she does actually fall, but she’s probably fine. She's only wobbling a little bit, knees locked, but she's getting the hang of it.

Riju laughs in a way you don't usually hear her, childlike and carefree as her and Zelda weave in and out amongst the dunes, idly racing. You fall back a bit, following but separate, letting the kids play by themselves, a supervising parent at a birthday party. You aren't even that much older than her, less than a decade, but it feels like forever.

You hear Riju yell something that snaps you back to attention from where you’d been zoning out, just as Zelda’s sand seal darts off to the right. You can see her pulling desperately at the reigns and it completely ignoring her, and you lean back, snapping the reins to catch up to Riju.

“A snake startled her seal!” Riju yells over the shrieking wind, “She’s headed towards Molduga territory!” Riju looks frantic and frightened, and you yank the reigns hard, tilting toward Zelda. Riju follows immediately, but you turn and point back at her aggressively. She hesitates and for a moment, you think she's going to ignore you, but she falls back.

Zelda doesn't even look back at you as she tries to regain control over the beast, and it's infuriatingly trying to outrun you. You can see the Oasis plateau at the center of this Molduga’s territory coming up fast, and hear the rumble beneath your feet that tells you danger is on its way.

You yell at her, useless vowel sounds, and she snaps her head up like she hasn't realized you were there, and you point at the ground with all the emphasis you can. You can only use one hand and that's beyond frustrating, and she just stares at you, unable to understand.

The Molduga bursts from the ground like a volcanic eruption directly beneath her sand seal and she screams as she's pulled into the air by the reins, only to let go middair.

For a moment for you weirdly proud as she tucks and rolls properly, but you don't have time for that as you turn your seal back around to where she's fallen to grab her.

The Molduga dives back under the ground and you see the sand seal lying motionless- saving it for later. It's after zelda, now, a slow moving target. She’s gotten to the feet and she's taking little steps backwards, looking at the ground like she's trying to see it through the sand. You want to yell at her to stop moving, but the words don't live inside you and you can't.

You can feel the ground trembling as the beast moves beneath you straight for her, and you snap the reins hard at your seal, urging it onward, and as you pass her you grab her arm. You’d been planning on grabbing her and bolting, but her weight has destabilized your legs against your shield, and even if it hadn't, it's too late. The Molduga is here.

You _yank_ her by the arm and throw her as far as you can, just as the ground opens up beneath you and you're surrounded by endless teeth.

You tuck as small as you can into yourself and don't fight to get through the teeth, falling down against the back of it's throat, disgusting as wet, and you think for a moment you can't wait to tell Sidon about this, because it totally kicks his Octorock story’s ass.

You fumble for your sword at your back, and just as you've drawn it the Molduga slams back into the ground and you slam forward with it, directly onto your own blade.

You gasp, seeing stars in the darkness as it slices into the meat of your right hip, and grit your teeth as you yank it out and use all the strength you can muster to _shove_ it into the throat of the Molduga, which shrieks and rolls.

You nearly lose your grip as it spins, but you jab again and this time you hear the roar of sand passing by when you do, which means you cut all the way through to the outside. You focus on that spot, digging your sword in like you're cutting a cake, and the Molduga thrashes and rolls, and when you finally have the hole big enough to crawl through you can see air- it's above ground, thrashing, and you pull yourself out and hit the ground, rolling. You don't even bother trying to hold onto your sword as you collapse.

The Molduga crawls away, shrieking and thrashing as it begins to slow and die. You push yourself blearily up onto your elbows as Zelda runs toward you.

She's crying, her bow drawn. She must have been shooting it- how very practical of her. You look down at your gut where your hand is clenched over the wound where you stabbed yourself like a fucking idiot, trying to keep pressure on the injury. Blood is supposed to stay on the inside. Your blood is pretty bad at that.

You push yourself up to sit as she collapses beside you, trying to pry your fingers away from your skin. Her mouth is moving, but she isn't saying anything. All you hear is the rush of wind and blood in your ears and you wonder why she's so upset. It's not that bad. It hurts like shit, yeah, but you've been hurt a thousand times worse a thousand times over. A couple elixirs from your pack and you'll be fine.

You don't know why she's crying so much.

* * *

 

“Link,” Gaddison whispers, “how long have you been sitting here?”

You jolt up like you've been burned, startled. You didn't notice her approach. She shouldn't have been able to sneak up you on you like that. You shake your head. You weren't asleep, but you feel like you might as well have been.

'Sorry,’ you sign quickly, 'I am waiting for the Prince.’

“Prince Sidon won't be out of his meeting for awhile yet. Didn't he ask you to wait for him in his quarters?”

Your face heats up and you pin your ears back, embarrassed. Gaddison is more reserved even than you, and usually you like that about her, but right now it's kind of annoying, since it feels like she's beating you at a game you aren't even playing.

'No,’ you lie, and she snorts through… something. Huh, she doesn't have a nose, how did she do that?

“So you’re just going to sit out here for two more hours?” She asks.

'How did you make that noise?’ you sign. She tilts her head just so to the side.

“What, this?” She snorts again, and now that you’re paying attention, it seems like it's coming from her forehead. You stand, and she bends down and snorts again so you can see. She has little… nostrils? On the underside of her forehead crest. They’re pointed backward, and you’d never really noticed them before, even on Sidon.

She stands back up, “The Prince really will be quite awhile, these meetings last ages. If you don't want to wait in his quarters, Captain Bazz is off duty right now, and you know he’s been aching to see you. You may as well make your time productive.”

You frown. You’re content to just sit on the floor for two hours, but, she did let you look at her nose. You shrug.

“He’s probably at Mikau’s. That's a bar; it's under the surface, but, you should be able to dive their without a problem. If you go by the Inn where the railing vanishes and dive there, it should be about twenty feet down. Blue sign. Can’t miss it.”

Underwater. Alright. Whatever, you can hold your breath long enough if Gaddison thinks you can. She certainly knows you better than you know you. What's the worst that can happen, you drown? That's how you wanted to die, anyway.

* * *

 

Sidon traces the crater scar on your chest where the last guardian shot you before you died. It shattered your sternum and snapped your ribs like twigs and even now your chest is an uneven mess of scars and lumps and burns that betray the fragile nature of your war-forged body. You watch Sidon’s claw follow the path of one long valley that slices through your gut like butter to its source over your heart. He doesn't look particularly disgusted or worried, he mostly just looks… interested.

“What is this one from?” He asks as he touches it. It looks like he's memorizing it. You have to shift your arms around his to answer so it's a bit awkward, but he doesn't seem to mind.

‘Lizalfos,’ you sign simply.

“Oh,” he says, humming as he moves his fingers to another scar.

* * *

 

“Am I doing this correctly?” Riju asks.

You look up from the dough you’re kneading to hers. She looks different with all her jewelry on her arms off- piled on the counter like they're nothing. She's being very delicate with it, and it looks more like she's trying to massage the dough than knead it, which is totally different.

You pat your hands off on your apron and sign, 'You need to be less delicate.’

“He says that you’re going to easy on it,” Zelda translates for you, and Riju looks down at the dough, before she hesitantly picks it up a few inches off the table and throws it down. You nod at her encouragingly and she smiles a bit, before going back at it.

“Thank you for showing us how to bake bread, Link,” Zelda says pleasantly, “this was always something that my father said was beneath me, servant’s work. I think it's nice to know how to do things like this…”

She hums softly, her eyes gentle as she admires her own work. It makes you feel good to see her happy. She deserves to be happy. She spent a hundred years saving the lives of everyone in the world and everyone who would ever exist in the world waiting for you to wake up and help her. Everyone other than you she ever knew is dead and she deserves these little moments where she makes bread and smiles and her girlfriend is there and she still thinks, like Sidon does, you're a real person and her friend.

“I agree, my dearest!” Riju chuckles.

This is a good moment. Sunshine through the window and a breeze on your skin, flour on your shirt and two giggling teenage girls making bread, happy, with no monsters or blood or threats of the apocalypse and war and death. For just this moment, you think you almost feel real.

* * *

 

Horse huffs quietly, annoyed, and you coo consolingly at her. She hates having her hooves cleaned, but it has to be done. You’re careful around the frog with the pick, so you know you haven't hurt her or anything. The last thing you'd ever want to do would be to hurt her. She's a good animal and she's been good to you though you've asked so much of her.

You finish up and shift your thighs away from her knees and let her set her hood back down before you turn and pet her face, chittering noises you think sound calming. Something horse like. Throat noises are easy to make because they're mostly just air.

You grab an apple from the top of the stall wall where you've hidden them and over it to her as an apology for how miserable being cleaned is. She takes it from your hand delicately, in a way that makes it clear she doesn't forgive you.

“Hey, Link, did you want any help? Your board fees cover stuff like this.”

You shake your head and pet Horse on the neck and smile and the stablehand smiles and leans against the stall door.

“Aww, you like your horse. You just won me twenty rupees, you know. Jericho bet me you didn't care about her at all.” She chuckles softly, and you tilt your head at her, confused.

“Well, you didn't really name her,” she explains, “You registered her as 'horse.’”

You want to tell her that you did name her. Her name is Horse- you've met a lot of horses, but she's the best horse. She’s carried you through fire and blood and churned earth with the bravery of a thing that isn't real, a thing like you. But she isn't like you. She is real. She is a real horse, a real one, but she's brave like she's fake, like she was built to be. She wasn't built to be a monster but she has strength like one. You were built like a machine, forged to be the thing you are. She should be proud that she's better than you, a real thing that's alive and learned to be strong without dying. A real Horse.

She doesn't know Hylian Sign though. So instead you shrug and smile and pat Horse on the shoulder.

* * *

 

“Did you tell Princess Zelda that we aren't dating?”

You look up from the dagger you're sharpening in your lap on a whetstone, before the question processes and you nod, because obviously you did.

“Why did you say that?” He asks. You can't tell if he seems hurt or genuinely curious, but he reaches to where your sitting on the bed beside him and touches your knee. You stare at his hand and put the dagger down.

'Because we aren't,’ you tell him simply.

He squints at you, opens his mouth, closes it, opens it again. “We’ve been dating for over a year, Link. Did you… did you not think we were dating?”

You laugh breathily and shake your head, ‘You can't date me,’ you tell him, because maybe he hadn't thought about it? 'You’re the only prince.’

“Yes,” he says slowly, “But I love you, so we’re dating. We’ve been on dates.”

'But you can't date me,’ you repeat, because he doesn't seem to get it, 'I won't live very long.’

Sidon’s yellow eyes soften, and you definitely hate that- you don't want to be pitied. You don't need his pity. He doesn't need to feel bad for you. You don't _want_ to live as long as he will. Frankly you've lived long enough as it is.

“I know, Link. I’m okay with that.”

You stare at him. He can't be okay with that. That's crazy. Besides, he still needs an heir.

You shake your head again, 'No, you’re the only prince. You need an heir.’

“I need a what?” He asks.

“Baby,’ you sign.

“An heir?” He asks, and you nod, “I can choose a successor.”

You shake your head again, more firmly, 'No, no, you can’t date me. I’m no one.’

“You’re… the Hylian Champion,” he says slowly, like he thinks you don't understand him.

You cover your eyes with your hands because everything is so weird and bright all of a sudden and you keep shaking your head. No, no, no. He can't date you. You won't live long enough. You’re no one. You're ruining his life.

“Link- Link!” He pulls your hands away and you yank them back.

'You can't date me!’ You say again, because he doesn't _understand!_ 'I’m no one! I’m not real!’

He grabs your face in his hands and they’re so big, and cool like stones.

“Link,” he says, his big yellow eyes looking into yours, “You are a real person, and I love you, and we have been courting for over a year. My father knows this. Zelda knows this. Everyone knows this.”

He won't let you shake your head anymore, so you just stare at him, confused. That can't be right. It doesn't make sense. It's all wrong.

'I won't live very long,’ you say again, uselessly, 'I’ll leave you.’

“That's not you leaving me,” he says, “That's you dying. You can't feel guilty for dying.”

Of course you can. Your whole life, your whole four years of life, your only job was to not die. If you died everything would die with you. If you died no one would save Zelda, no one would stop Ganon. If you died everything was over. You can absolutely feel guilty for dying.

You just stare at him, confused, unsettled, lips moving silently like you've forgotten you don't speak.

“Oh, Link,” he sighs, and pulls you against his chest. Cool, like the other side of the pillow at night.

* * *

 

You knock on Zelda’s door with two knuckles.

“Yes, who is it?” She calls from within. You frown and knock again. “Is that you, Link?” You knock again. “Just a moment!”

You wait a bit, and the door opens. She's wearing her nightclothes and looks like she was getting ready for bed. You feel bad now, like maybe you should have waited until tomorrow.

“Link, what do you need?” She asks, concerned, “Is something wrong?”

You bite your lip and decide to just get it over with, 'Can we talk?’

Her eyes from your hands to your face and she nods, “Of course, come in.” She steps to the side and lets you pass her. You pace awkwardly, then turn her desk chair away from the wall and sit. She shuts and locks the door and moves to sit on the edge of her bed, facing you.

Your hands hover in front of you for a long moment, uncertain, and you think surely she’ll get bored eventually, but she's patient. Finally, you move, 'I want to resign.’

She looks startled, “You do? Why?”

'I don't want to fight anymore,’ you admit, refusing to make eye contact. There's another pause, this time from her.

“...I’m actually glad, Link,” she says, finally, and you look up. She's smiling at you, relieved, “I’ve been… worried about you. I’ve been concerned for some time that your duties have put an undue burden on you, and kept you from happiness.”

You breathe heavy through your nose and shake your head, 'I can do them, if I need to.’

“I know,” she says quickly with a wave of your hand, “But I don't think you should have to. You've earned an epilogue, I think.” She laughs, light and airy. You can't help but smile, because her laugh always puts you at ease.

'I’m moving to Zora’s Domain,’ you say, making sure you sign the last part slowly, because she knows the sign, but it's very specific and she doesn't use it often. She nods.

“Yes, that does make sense. Are you going to be staying with…?” She trails off, eyebrows furrowing.

'My boyfriend,’ you sign, looking sideways. You can feel heat on your face. You made such a stink about it last time it came up and now you have to admit you were wrong.

She lights up like dawn over dueling peaks, “Oh, Link, that’s wonderful! I’m so happy for you!”

'Thanks,’ you say, awkwardly.

“Prince Sidon really cares about you,” she says, “You’re all he ever wants to talk about. You always seem so much happier when he's around.”

You shrug, but you are smiling. It's hard not to. Not when she's this happy.

“You’ll always have a place in the castle if you want it,” she continues, “so I expect you to come back and visit me, won't you?”

You chuf with laughter, 'Of course, Princess.’

* * *

 

“Is this the last of it?” Bazz asks, pointing at the pile of weapons you've dumped on the floor as unceremoniously as one can. You nod. “Good, because I don't think anymore will fit in this closet.”

You nudge an errant ice rod with the toe of your boot better into the pile and he looks behind him at your pile.

“Are you sure you need all of these, Master Link?” He asks with a snort. You try to see if you can see his nostrils flare from this far away, but you can't. You nod and he laughs and shrugs and goes back to organizing your walk in closet turned armory in the Zora palace.

You wander back to where you left the rest of your things, however little you own, and grab the stack of books Zelda insisted you take to shelve them against the wall.

“You know,” Bazz laughs over the clinking of swords, “This reminds me of when you helped me move into my first apartment.”

You turn to look at him and he gives you a quick glance.

“You don't remember, I’m sure,” he continues, and you don't, “But we used to play a lot, as kids. You got older faster than any of us did, though, so you were like, a cool adult that we used to play with but also wasn't a kid anymore. You used to help me with my swordskills for hours until I could master a move. It meant a lot to me,” his voice is soft, nostalgic, “When I moved from my parents undercity cove to the surface, you helped me. I wish you could remember the way people stared at you, this sopping wet Hylian diving into Undertow Court and swimming up bags of stuff.”

You wrack your brain for this memory, but it's not there. You can't remember knowing Bazz well enough that you would do something like that, but it's nice to know you did, you guess.

“You got sick from that,” he says quietly, “I don't think it was very serious, but at the time I was so convinced you were going to die because I’d never seen you sick before.”

You're quiet, holding your books. You continue to hear spears and halberds knock against each other as they find their places in your new home.

“I’m glad they saved you,” he says after a long time, “of all the Champions. I know that sounds awful, but… I’m glad it was you.”

When you turn to look at him he's turned to look at you, and slowly, you raise your palm to tap your chin and fall open. 'Thank you.’

* * *

 

You wave at Kodah as you step inside the entranceway of the Seabed Inn tavern, and she lights up so bright when she notices you it's almost immediately embarrassing. She wipes flour off on her apron as she jogs over to meet you.

“Linny! What a lovely surprise! I heard you moved into the palace?”

You nod, 'South tower.’

She clasps her hands together, “Oh, how romantic. Are you and the prince official, now, or is that still on the down low?”

You feel your face flush and you shrug awkwardly, 'We’re dating.’

Kodah hugs you with a little cry of glee, “Oh, Linny, I’m so glad. You two make such a cute couple.”

You have to wait until she pulls away to respond. 'I was actually wondering if you needed a chef,’ you say, still awkward. It feels weird to ask for a job.

She was already smiling, but the way it splits across her face and reveals rows of razor sharp teeth should be more unsettling than it is, “Do you mean it? You, work here, for more than three hours every four months? I’ll be drowning in customers!” She laughs, and you can't help but smile now.

'So I have the job?’ You ask her and she puts her hands on her hips.

“Can you start tonight?”

You smirk and snort, 'I can start right now.’

Kodah claps her hands together, “Great! I’ve got a whole sack of potatoes that need peeling then, so let's get to it!”

* * *

 

You’d never realized how beautiful it was on Shatterback Peak before. Whenever you came here before, it was for the Lynel. You would come after every Bloodmoon, bearing the red hot rage your heart is capable of producing and as many blades as you could, and you would rip that thing from this world like a page from a book.

The Lynel is long gone. Without the Bloodmoon, monsters stat dead, and the Lynel was dispatched ages ago. Shatterback Peak is just a view now. A nice place to sit and watch the world. The stone is cool on your skin and grass wafts in the wind the same way your hair floats gently around your face, and Sidon rubs little circles in your back while you eat the sandwich you brought with you and watch the world you saved from the comfortable distance of the peak, where you don't have to be a part of it. You can just be here, with Sidon, and go back to it when you feel like it.

“It’s a beautiful day,” Sidon sighs. His voice is like sweet simmered fruit. “We should go for a swim in the reservoir later.”

You nod in agreement and take another bite, watching a cloud roll into a distant mountain peak and split around it softly.

“But, perhaps, before that, we could run back to the palace for a bit of privacy,” he suggests with a particularly suggestive dip of his hands down your back where they're massaging you to your waist, just over your hips and you shiver and shove your sandwich into your mouth to free your hands.

'I like that plan. Let me finish eating,’ you sign, and he laughs.

“Let me never attempt to come between you and a meal, my dear,” Sidon chuckles, “your love for food is unparalleled.”

You frown, pause, set your sandwich in your lap, 'Not true,’ you sign, and he eyes your hands so curiously you almost stop, 'Food is only my second love.’

“Oh?” He says, and it looks like he's holding his breath. You look back out over Zora’s Domain and the rest of the world, the tiny little world you have the privilege to go back to, and think that while it's nice to take a break like this every now and again… you're glad you live there.

'I love you,’ you say, the sign feeling old and rusty in your hands. Sidon’s breath catches in his throat and he leans forward to kiss you, cool hands on your face.

The world waits patiently below for the two of you to go back to it, when you’re ready. But not just yet. You'll take a moment more, here, with him.


End file.
